Time Saga
by Lord-Lunaris
Summary: "What If in the Star Wars Universe"
1. Hunch of a Major

Consider time. What if the smallest actions could alter the past? What if the tiniest changes could affect the course of history? Consider this as you ponder today's tale of Alternate History.  
  
One extra bit of effort and reflexes from a captain. Reassignment of a single trooper. The hunch of a former guardsmen. Could these two things have saved the Empire?  
  
5 Years after the Battle of Endor.  
  
Major Grodin Tierce, attired in full stormtrooper gear, paced down the halls of the Star Destroyer Chimaera. From outside, Tierce could hear the sounds of battle ringing around the shipyards of Bilbringi. Tierce had heard vague reports that smugglers had attacked the Imperials from the inside. Tierce had been reassigned by the Grand Admiral himself, put on sentry duty in the bridge of the ship. Tierce didn't know what was so special about himself, but he followed the orders. No, he thought, doing a slight mental backtrack. He, Grodin Tierce, had been one of the best, and elite Royal Guardsmen to the Emperor himself. As Tierce walked, he felt a prickling along the back of his neck. Something small, almost imperceptible, ran itself down his back, and he stopped, and looked at the door he had just passed. It was the Grand Admirals secondary bridge. He turned back, and walked to the door, knowing full well he would probably be reprimanded for entering the Grand Admirals chamber during a battle. Bracing himself, he stepped in front of the door, and as he was about to enter, the wail of an alarm cut through the ship. Without a second thought, he darted through, blaster drawn. "Read it, Captain." Thrawn's voice cut through the sound of battle like a knife. "Mount Tantiss is under attack, sir," Pellaeon began. "By 2 species of natives, Rebel saboteurs, and a group of Noghri???" Pellaeon trailed off in disbelief, and seconds later lunged for the alarm. Just as he hit, and the siren began its wail, Rukh shot his hand out and caught Pellaeon in the throat. Pellaeon looked up, and saw Rukh dart toward Thrawn, and with a sudden surge of helpless rage, closed his eyes so not to witness the awful event. Tierce leapt through, and with training born of the Royal Guard, shot at the small, half-sized alien darting toward the Admiral. Caught in the head, Rukh fell to the ground, his assassin knife clattering to the floor next to him. Cocking a single blue-black eyebrow, Thrawn smiled softly as he said "Well done, Trooper. You will be very well commended for this. But for now, we have battle to win." Pausing slightly, Thrawn's smile faded as he said "Thank you, trooper." Tierce saluted, and smartly turned and left.  
  
5 years after the event.  
  
Sighing almost imperceptibly, Mon Mothma wrote her signature next to the others of the New Republic government, or what was left of it. She glanced to her left, out the window of the Imperial palace, to where the citizens once again were ruled by the Empire. Just 6 hours prior, the Empire had arrived at the final bastion of New Republic power, Coruscant. And now, seated next to her were Borsk Fey'lya and Leia Organa Solo. And across from her, flanked by his second-in-command Grand Admiral Pellaeon, sat Emperor Thrawn of the New Empire. Bilbringi had marked the beginning of the end. After the destruction of the two major sector fleets there, Thrawn had wasted no time conquering the planets in the Sesswanna and Correllian sectors, not to mention taking back Mount Tantiss. And now, after that declaration of rebellion so many years ago, the Empire had won in the end. But perhaps, she thought, this Empire would stick to the principles it started with, as Emperor Thrawn claimed it would.  
  
Epilouge And so, for a thousand centuries, the New Empire ruled the galaxy in benevolence and peace, under the leadership of Emperor Thrawn, who through clone bodies and brain transplants, kept peace and order through the galaxy. 


	2. One Last Drink

Consider time. What if the smallest actions could alter the past? What if the tiniest changes could affect the course of history? Consider this as you ponder today's tale of Alternate History.  
  
One night of drunken revelry changes the fate of the galaxy.  
  
The Night before Yavin.  
  
The night before the battle of Yavin.  
  
James Conklin sat brooding. He tried to recapture the feelings of ardor and enthusiasm he felt on the day he'd joined the Rebel Alliance, but couldn't. Personally, he couldn't see how the Rebels ragtag fleet could take down the Death Star. As a technician, he knew first hand what bad repair the Rebel "fleet", if you could call it that, was in. So that's why he was here, out on the fringe of the jungle, a bottle of Forvish Ale in his hand. For a brief moment, he considered putting the bottle down, and checking the ships on last time, but he put that thought aside. Taking a swig from the bottle, James raised the bottle and silently toasted the Rebels. And with this swig, he doomed the Rebellion.  
  
The Battle of Yavin  
  
James Conklin was hungover, and he knew it. He walked by, ship by ship, and gave each as good of a check as he could in his drunken state. And as he passed by the ship piloted by Red 5, he missed a small, but very crucial detail. The proton torpedo launcher was misaligned by the smallest margin. Of course, this was a problem. The results could range from a misaligned shot to explosion of the torpedo while in the tube. But he walked on, and in his ignorance, he doomed the Rebellion.  
  
"Use the Force, Luke," Obi-Wan had told him. Vader was right on his tail, but so far, Luke had managed to instinctively dodge all the shots. Then, out of nowhere, blam! Han, whom he'd thought long gone, had blown Vader out of the sky. Luke closed his eyes and let the Force guide his shot. He depressed the button, and his last realization was that something was wrong. He had this realization just before his X-wing exploded in a shower of flame and explosion.  
  
Grand Moff Tarkin smiled and arrogantly turned to Chief Bast. "As I said, you overestimate their chances." Turning again, he this time referred to his gunner. "You may fire when ready." Turning back to the viewport, he heard just audibly "Commence Primary ignition."  
  
James Conklin looked up, and his last view was of the huge moon-like Death Star as he blew the Yavin and the Rebellion to the kingdom to come.  
  
5 years later.  
  
The Rebellion was long dead, and the Empire reigned supreme. And none save the Emperor himself had more power then Supreme Moff Tarkin, right-hand man to the Emperor. Vader was perhaps more physically powerful, but noone had the will and authority of Tarkin himself, the hero of the Massacre of Yavin.  
  
A/N. Please R&R, I want to know if this is any good. 


	3. Humility of a Sith

Consider time. What if the smallest actions could alter the past? What if the tiniest changes could affect the course of history? Consider this as you ponder today's tale of Alternate History.  
  
The Humility of an apprentice  
  
The Battle of Naboo.  
  
Darth Maul, Dark Lord of the Sith, whirled and ran the old Jedi, Qui-gon, through. His face alight with the savage joy of battle, he turned and now watched the apprentice Jedi scream as his master fell. "I have killed you master and now it is your turn to die!" said Maul in a low, feral voice. The reckoning was at hand, and soon after it, Darth Maul would have his revenge on the Jedi. The laser doors opened now, and the apprentice came out, fueling his power with the taint of the dark side; he gave in to his anger. Maul noted this as interesting, that even the highly vaunted Jedi could too succumb to their anger. It gave him grim pleasure to note their hypocrisy. He struck again and threw the Jedi off balance and using the dark side like a battering ram, sent the Jedi into pit. Showing a prescense of mind Maul would not have expected, the Jedi clutched on to a small proturbance on the wall. For a moment, Maul almost considered gloating but then he remembered the voice of his master. "The battle is not yet over until your enemy is dead." So, despite his feelings of pride he again used the force, and sent the Jedi plummeting to his death. He deactivated his lightsaber and jogged away from the pit, his mission almost complete. "Now you and I will negotiate a new treaty," she said to the Viceroy. Nute Gunray seemed resigned to his fate and Padme Amidala knew she had won. Then it all went to hell as the door to throne room blew inward. Padme was knocked off her feet, and the vision of a nightmare stepped through. Gunray crawled forward on his knees "Lord Maul.make her sign the treaty!" Maul lifted the Nemoidian with the force and cast him aside. Brave Captain Panaka was on his feet and fired a laser at Maul. The Sith laughed and deflected the bolt, sending it back to Panaka, killing him instantly. Now he stepped forward again and hefted Padme up. "You will sign the treaty proposed by the Viceroy," he said in a commanding voice. "I will sign the treaty," Padme said in a dead voice.  
  
Epilouge: The Jedi council chamber.  
  
"Trained, you will not be," said Master Yoda in a solemn voice. "But I." Anakin began, but Yoda cut him off. "While blow up the Federation ship you diddead, are Qui-dong and Obi-Wan. No one to train you, there is. Returned to Tatooine with your mother you will be. On this matter, decided, the council is." Anakin felt tears well up in his eyes as Adi Gallia took him to the ship which would bring him home. 


End file.
